Safe
by Sang-Argente
Summary: The aftermath of Hiatus part two, with a side of Tony/Gibbs angst. Mostly Tony-angst. SLASH. Will probably become multi-chapter against my better judgement! R&R, P&TY !


"_You'll do."_

Those two treacherous words played like a broken record in Tony's mind. Over and over, they spun around in his thoughts, along with the accompanying feelings of sadness and betrayal and hopelessness.

He stood at the sink in the downstairs bathroom, gazing at his resigned face and listening to the soundtrack of sadness that played on a loop in his mind. Fingers clenched around the basin's edge, the chill of the marble piercing his skin.

A soft click of the front door closing and a familiar shuffle across the living room carpet made his head snap up. Tony didn't know what he was feeling now-hope, love, joy, worry-and he didn't know what would happen if he walked out now so he stood there, listening to the sounds coming from the front of the house.

"Shit," a soft voice cursed as it's owner stumbled into the door frame of the kitchen. There were a few more muffled words as the man in the other room ambled around.

Due to the closeness of the bathroom and kitchen, plus Tony's extraordinary hearing, Tony heard the heavy sigh and then the sound of buttons being pressed on a mobile phone.

"Hello?" the man greeted, hesitant. "Ducky?"

Tony's eyebrows rose in surprise. He knew that Gibbs hadn't remembered Ducky in the hospital and wondered what possessed the other man to call him now.

"Yeah, I know," Gibbs continued after a pause. "I do feel guilty about that, but I could really use your help right now."

A spark of pain in Tony's hands caused him to look down. During his time listening to Gibbs, he'd let go of the sink and clenched his fists at his sides, resisting the urge to storm into the kitchen. His longer-than-usual nails had pierced the soft tissue that covered his palms. Deeply, it seemed, as blood was pouring out onto the pristine white floor tiles.

_'Jethro won't ever forgive me if I let those stain,'_ Tony thought absently. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed Gibbs's next words.

"Look, Ducky, I just need a ride to the airport."

His heart lurched into his throat while his stomach dropped to his knees. Where was Gibbs going that he'd need a plane to get there? It appeared that that was also Ducky's thought as Gibbs went on to say, "Mexico."

"Mexico?" Tony mouthed to his reflection. Confusion warred with dread warred with pain in his dreary green eyes. He knew Gibbs was leaving NCIS, sure, but the country? When would he be back? Again, there was proof that great minds think alike.

"I'm not coming back," Gibbs spoke into the phone with a tone of finality. "There's nothing keeping me here."

That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Tony slid down the bathroom door, his eyes staring listlessly at his lightly bleeding hands. It felt as if the sharp shard of his heart were spread out around him, piercing his whole body and making his skin itch unpleasantly.

Gibbs sighed again, "Thanks, Ducky. I'll owe you one."

Silence. Then, a short unhappy laugh. "Figures."

There was a loud _'clack'_ as Gibbs shut the phone and placed it on the counter. Tony's ears twitched just the slightest bit as he turned his head to follow Gibbs's progress up the stairs to the bedroom. A muffled metal-on-metal sound alerted him to the fact that Gibbs was packing. Because he wasn't coming back.

A harsh sob climbed it's way out of Tony's throat, loud and rough in the still night. He clapped a hand over his mouth and tightly shut his eyes, trying to keep the hurt inside after he heard a pause upstairs.

_'Please,'_ Tony prayed, to the God he hadn't talked to since he was nine years old and hiding under his bed from his hateful father and his ill mother. He'd had tears dripping down his cheeks then, too. But these were desperate times. . .

_'Please,'_ he started again, stronger and more sure of himself this time but still not daring to whisper out loud as he heard Gibbs coming down the stairs. He slid a hand up the wall and flicked the light switch, sitting in the darkness and praying his soul dry as the tears wet his face and the blood wet his hands. _'Please. I know it's selfish to ask for you to keep him here with me or to give him back his memory but. . .please, God. I'm begging you. Just keep him safe.'_

There were footsteps in the short hall that separated the kitchen from the bathroom and laundry room. Tensing, Tony waited for them to pass. And they did.

They traveled across the living room again, shuffling in the way that Tony had learn to recognize after endless nights on the couch or in the kitchen. They kept going right up to the front door, which Tony heard open and-after a long pause-shut again.

His head dropped to his knees at the sound of Ducky's Morgan pulling up at the curb and then later pulling away. Even after the "you'll do" and the phone call and the packing, somewhere deep in Tony's battered heart, there was a sliver of hope. Now those hopes had been dashed.

He stood and exited the bathroom, his limbs feeling heavy and floating at the same time. A pounding broke across his forehead every time he took a step but he couldn't stop. He retraced Gibbs's earlier footsteps all the way to the front door, which he opened.

Gazing at the spot where he just _knew_ Gibbs had stood, Tony wrapped his arms around his torso and shivered when a breeze blew through the doorway. He swept his eyes up and across the empty sky, the words slipping from between his lips involuntarily in a breathless whisper.

"Just keep him safe."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow. . .that was so not where I was going with that when I started. That was not even close to where I was headed. But it's still good, riiight? Why doncha review and tell me so, hmm? PLEASE! (and thank you, since I just realized I never say that! ^.~)  
><strong>


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